Time and Experience dated for a while. Time felt it was the right Experience for him. Experience felt it was the right Time for her. But sadly there was never enough Time for Experience and Experience always seemed to take too much Time.

Twenty-five years ago I first ventured to the Marshall Islands. In that one week, I felt as if I were doing nothing. My host said, ‘you’re getting to know the place for when you return.’ While I was thinking, what expertise do I bring for them? She was thinking, how do we prepare for an engaging future collaboration? She, unfortunately, passed away several years following that first moment together, but the collaborative spirit has continued for 25 years mostly, I believe, because of that first step.

Even though your flight may be on time, over Mumbai they make your plane circle the airport several times. So you're late. After the aerial tour of the airport, you end up in line for the bus to the international terminal. You wait, then follow a clueless line of passengers to a bus, where you line up.

In a place where monkeys roam about and cows wandered unharmed, how can you not feel charmed by and a bit reflective on human nature? The cows are taken for granted, generally, noticed only when one needs to avoid hitting one.

Many people embrace my visits to India. In fact, I have had the great pleasure of visiting most places and friends more than once, which has contributed to forming close relationships and valued friendships. My current trip focused on that purpose; revisiting and catching up with now well established relationships. The great fun of this trip, however, has been how the revisits have played out.

Christmas started simply. The Theatre group I am traveling with performed on christmas eve. Between packing up, getting to the hotel, a late dinner and meeting, Christmas arrived quietly during the meeting. Arjun, one of the actors, turned to me and said happy Christmas. Twenty-four plus hours later, I have to say this was the most unexpected of winter holidays.

At 3:30 I awoke to shower, an unavoidably cold shower, to make room for others of the Natya Chetana company. We needed to leave at 4:45 to catch the train to Kolkata, and there were at least a dozen members that needed to share just two bathrooms. At 5 we tightly packed ourselves into a small van. The driver was a little disoriented and we had to stop to ask directions from a man out poking fruit from a tall tree overhanging the road. At 5:30, newly arrived at the station, we found the train delayed. We waited amongst the growing crowds.

As I ducked into my mosquito net covered bed, I noticed a firefly floating lazily above me in my tiny, mud-walled room. The steady glow from its behind seemed to be welcoming me, both to the theatre village where I will be staying and into a much needed sleep.

Locked in the passenger seat, driving about the back roads of Samoa, I wrestle with controlling time. I have no control, of course. I am not driving nor am I deciding. I am along for the ride, during which others choose how to spend the time we have together.
Herein lies my greatest frustration with visiting the many places I go. I am out of control. I mean, if course, out of the place of taking control. And for those who know me well, that is not the place I prefer to be.